Reminiscent Rendezvous
by SlenderXLover
Summary: She thought that he was out of her life for good; however, he had different thoughts completely. One-Shot Ghost-Face/OC


Lana's movie night was interrupted by the obnoxious ringing of the phone, making her sigh in annoyance. What was so important that someone had to call her when everyone who knew her knew not to call her on Saturday nights unless someone was dead?

Wait. What if someone was dead?

Hurriedly, she raced to the phone and answered it.

"Who died?" She asked frantically, terrified that it was her mother, who had suffered from breast cancer for five years now.

A chuckle came from the other side of the phone line.

"What a way to answer a phone call."

Lana inwardly groaned and leaned against the counter. The voice obviously belonged to a male, but she had no idea who it was. It was definitely no one she knew from work or her family.

"Listen asshole, either you tell me why you've called, or hang up and never call again," She growled into the telephone. He chuckled again.

"What's your favourite movie?" He asked with a low and slightly husky voice.

"Well, I was just watching it before I had to answer this phone call," Lana fiercely answered back, narrowing her eyes in annoyance. Her gaze flickered to the telly screen that was showing Human Centipede. It was her favourite movie.

People called her sick, but she didn't really seem to care. She knew what she liked, and she knew what she didn't. It was actually good. It wasn't another cliché movie about some guy that was a mass murderer because he had a curse on him, or because his or her parents abused them.

The main villain was just as mortal as anyone else, and Lana appreciated that.

"I know. I have eyes, love," the male's voice chortled. Blood pumped through her veins, adrenaline forced itself through her until it reached her heart.

"Excuse me?" She very nearly whispered, her hand shaking to show her anxiety.

"I said that I have ears. I can hear it playing in the background," he smirked. She was more panicky than most of the others. It made the game so much more easier. And more fun.

"No, no, you said that you had eyes. Are you watching me?" She snarled, running into her study and pulling out a hollowed bible in the back, opening it, and taking out the Glock 17. She placed bullets into it, and cocked it, keeping it with her as she turned on the patio and back lights on outside. She looked outside both, but couldn't find anyone out there.

She sighed with frustration and shut the curtains, stomping over to the couch, hanging up the phone, and sitting down on her couch with a huff.

She wouldn't let this little freak get to her. He was probably just playing a joke on her.

Suddenly, the phone rang again and she glared at it for a while before sighing and going over to pick it up, leaving her gun on the couch.

The killer didn't miss that at all. He smirked and walked closer to the door that she neglected to lock and carefully opened it, stepping into the house. When inside, he knew that he didn't have much time until she realized that he was in there.

"Hello?" She greeted the caller, sounding very irritated.

"It's not wise to hang up on someone like me, Lana." He whispered, loud enough to make himself heard on the phone, but not in the house.

"Please, just leave me alone. You're really starting to make me angry," she told him. Chuckling, he walked closer to her, behind her now, knife poised and ready to attack. This would be so great, so wonderful. Bringing his knife down, he was stunned when Lana swirled around and grasped his wrist, keeping the knife away from her body.

"I'm a murderer, Lana. I don't really care who I make angry." The masked killer whispered in her ear, causing her to shiver. She weakly pressed her hands against his chest, feeling surprised at how lean and yet toned he was.

With a quick, and very rash movement, she nearly tore off his mask and gasped. Surprised that one, he hadn't stabbed her, and two, that she recognized him.

It was David. He was her very best friend in second grade. They both had Mrs Bright together and they both hated her. He still had the messy, blonde hair and the bright, green eyes. I never saw him in third grade and on because he moved out of the country, but here he was. Living. Breathing. Murdering.

"David?" She whispered. She was so shocked that she could barely talk. What had happened to the sweet, caring boy who was her best friend?

"Hey, Lana-Lana," he said, smirking. She wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face. After all this time, he still had that irritating smirk that always made her crazy. She sighed. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to kiss-

No, forget that. She did NOT want to kiss him on his thin, smooth lips. She didn't want any of that. Just because she was lonely didn't mean that she was desperate.

"Shut up, David. So, what made you decide to finally move back here?" She asked, tapping her left foot and crossing her arms over her chest, drawing David's attention there.

He stared at that place for a while. Those weren't there the last time he was with her. He liked-

No he didn't. He didn't like it at all. He then realized just how pissed she looked, and took into account that she looked as though she was gonna punch him.

Their body language seemed to talk for them.

He pulled her to him, saying, 'Oh, pardon me, but I just realized how much you looked like you wanted to punch me, so I decided to do this to stop it.'

She seemed to say, 'Oh, it's completely fine, but please ignore this knee that I shove between your legs. I hope it doesn't hurt too much.'

His hand around her arms tightened, while the other went to her thigh, speaking the words, 'It only hurt for a bit, but please understand why I've decided to grasp your right thigh to ensure that you don't knee my goods again.'

She struggled against him. "Let me go," She yelled at him. He held her tighter to him, grabbing the back of her head and kissing her.

It wasn't a soft kiss by any means. It was bruising, punishing, painful. She loved it.

He knotted his fingers into her hair and yanked her head back, pressing his lips against the column of her throat, grazing his teeth against the side, causing Lana to take a deep breath, and breathe out a shuddering gasp of air.

Slowly, David ran his hand along her collarbone and kissed her behind the ear. Gently, this time.

"Please, please stop," she cried out, struggling against the hands holding her against the wall. He didn't comply, though. Instead, he clutched her to his chest and held her against him for an inconceivable amount of time.

"I've wanted you for so long. I've thought about this for so, so long. I need you, Lana-Lana." He whispered, staring into her eyes. She felt disgusted, both at herself and at David. It's not as though she was going to hook up with a guy she'd just been reunited with after more than fifteen years apart! She also was repulsed by the excitement coursing through her veins. This was a serial killer, and he was going to touch her! He was probably going to end up raping her if she didn't comply, and she didn't want to get raped!

"David, please, I don't want this. Please, please just stop! Just let me get to know you first, at least," she cried out, nearly begging him. David's eyes narrowed, his grip on her tightening ever so carefully as to not hurt her too badly.

"We've already known each other. We're both adults. For all we know, the earth could end tomorrow, and we'd never have each other. I know I've dreamed about it. What about you? Have you ever dreamed about being pinned against the wall by me? Have you dreamed of me touching you? Of me _fucking _you?" He asked her, leaning in close to her. She smelled so good. She smelled like-like… like wisteria and jasmine. She was intoxicating, and he loved it. He breathed in her fragrance and committed it to memory. When he left after having her, which he _would_ do, he'd always remember her aroma.

"Listen, I am not ready to go and just have sex, okay? It's wrong to do it out-of-wedlock, and I know that you know that," Lana said, glaring at him. They used to talk about how it was wrong to do anything before you got married, although they didn't talk about sex and stuff. They really just meant kissing and hugging, for their innocent minds were too undeveloped to have even a slight understanding of what intercourse was.

"I know what happened to you, Lana-Lana," David whispered in her ear, making her shudder in the memory.

It wasn't much. One boyfriend just went too far and someone found his body mangled and bloody, which now that she thought about it….

"You were the one that killed_him_, weren't you?" She murmured. He gave a nod of affirmation and clutched her closer to him. "Just how long have you been here?"

"A couple of years. I've been watching you for so long, Lana-Lana," David trailed his fingers along her waist, frowning when he felt the bones of her waist. She was always a bit skinny, but this was a bit too much. She was now way too skinny. Perhaps he'd be staying here a bit longer than he thought.

"You scare me, and yet you fascinate me," she whispered, staring into his eyes. She always did love those eyes. They were so green that she easily found herself lost in them.

"How so?" He asked her, mesmerized by her curly hair as he ran his fingers through it.

"You are just an enigma. You're strange. You're enchanting," she whispered, hoping that he didn't hear the last part. As if. He was listening to her so closely that he could have heard anything that she would have said. He felt… attracted to her to the point of it being fatal.

He wanted to touch her, to taste her. He wanted to wrap himself in her essence completely and never come out. She was perfect, and he'd be damned if he allowed some other male to have her, or even touch her for that matter. She belonged to him. She has for a while, but she just didn't know it. Lana was his, and soon, he would physically prove it.

How reminiscent, finally meeting with his old friend from primary school. She had changed a lot, but not too much, for he knew that she still had her little quirks that she'd always had. For instance, when nervous, she'd gnaw on her bottom lip like she was doing now; however, in primary school, it only looked cute. Now, it made him want to tear her clothes off and-

No. No, bad David. He chanted to himself. He refused to have thoughts such as those.

Although, now that he thought about it, why not have dirty thoughts about his Lana? After all, she was his. She belonged to him after all. Right?


End file.
